


sunburnt

by silverheartstrings



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Catradora Week 2018, Character Study, Episode: s01e11 Coda, F/F, POV First Person, sorry for the first person pov it started out as a poem lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 06:01:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17258873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverheartstrings/pseuds/silverheartstrings
Summary: in which adora is the sun and catra is icarus and it's a greek tragedy.





	sunburnt

**Author's Note:**

> written for day 3 of catradora week 2018, prompt: seasons/moon and sun. 
> 
> from catra's pov, takes place during season 1, sort of a coda for episode 1x11 The Promise.
> 
> shoutout to your best american girl by mitski + the myth of icarus for the sun metaphor inspo

_One._

 

You were always the sun: the brightest thing in that twilight world we grew up in.

All my childhood memories are infused with your gold – that dazzling radiance that pulled me in half the time, and burnt me, the other half.

I was torn in two.

Half of me worshipped you, just like everyone else – and the other half resented you for it, how we were all in endless orbit around you. You were the sun, and I was merely one of the tiny planets caught in your gravity.

Worse than that – I was no one.

 

_Two._

 

For the longest time, I tried to be a moon, tried to reflect even a fraction of your rays. But, like Icarus, I was singed by your blinding fire and I could only fall, drowning, into your shadow.

 

_Three._

 

And yet here I am again, once more pulled into your orbit. I can never be free of you, can I?

At the edge of a cliff, staring up at you, your golden hair glowing like a halo around your head -- silhouetted against the sky, the sun I can never reach.

I seem to always be reaching for you, trying to catch up to you.

Never succeeding.

 

_Four._

 

And always, the recurring motif of our hands like anchors:

_Hanging from a cliff side, the only things holding each other up, keeping each other from falling._  
_In a strange ancient temple, reaching desperately for one another in the midst of danger._  
_In the fading glow of our memories, holding onto one another while our footsteps and laughter echo through the hallways._

Through everything, your hand in mine - a lifeline, a tether.

And yet those same hands now wield a sword instead - that accursed sword that took you away from me. Now, you laugh with new friends, a new home, hold another girl in your arms -- while jealousy closes like a fist over my throat, holding me in a choke-hold.

So you’ll forgive me if this time I let go of your hand, push it away - you let go first, after all.

 

_Five._

 

Once, you made me a promise that nothing bad could happen as long as we had each other.

So tell me, Adora, _why_ did you break it?


End file.
